


Tease

by officialoperaghost



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom - Susan Kay
Genre: M/M, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-13 00:44:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7955470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/officialoperaghost/pseuds/officialoperaghost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern Day PWP Pharoga Oneshot</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tease

If there was anything Nadir enjoyed, it was making Erik flustered.

There was something about seeing that usually composed, stoic man falter that never failed to bring a smile (if a somewhat devious one) to his face. Those yellow eyes would flicker warily, the exposed parts of his skin would flush, with his Adam’s apple rising and falling in his throat as his long fingers interlocked and twisted around each other. 

He did so enjoy making him squirm. 

It was quite easy to do. Being so starved for affection as Erik was, any prolonged physical contact would have a visible effect. It was amazing that such a powerful man could be undone by something as simple as the light brush of fingertips on his yellow skin, or the twisting of his hair around his fingers. For Nadir, it was a welcome - and amusing - change to his typical harsh exterior.

As always, it began with the complaining. The scathing words that originally, years ago, would cut deep like actual wounds but now fell on deaf ears.

“What on God’s earth are you doing, Nadir? There is a perfectly sound armchair not four feet away. Kindly take that as your seat and leave my personal space well alone.”

Nadir settled himself on the sofa beside Erik, one arm on the headrest behind them. Though his tone was terse and unwelcoming Nadir noticed the tell-tale bobbing of his throat at his presence. The book in Erik’s hands was shaking almost imperceptibly as the Persian raised his hand to Erik’s jaw and ran his thumb along it. 

“Nadir.” He was trying his best to keep calm but his voice was shaking as much as his hands were. “Nadir, this is most inappropriate -” 

“Nonsense.” The Persian interrupted. “I am simply touching your face, Erik. Who’s to say I’m not inspecting your mask for damage?”

“I inspect my masks with exceeding precision.” Erik mumbled half-heartedly. In the dark alcoves of the mask, those yellow eyes were closed. Nadir moved his thumb to his chin. Erik parted his mouth expectantly, his breath coming in short rasps. He swept it slowly over Erik’s lower lip, dragging it down slightly.

“Nadir.” His voice rumbled deep in his throat, a wonderful growl that made the Persian move instinctively closer. “This is most inappropriate.”

“This?” Nadir purred. “This is nothing.”

Erik held his breath as the Persian moved in closer, his lips almost brushing over his ear.

“I’m going to take you to bed.” He whispered. “And when we get there, I’m going to undress you, and kiss every inch of your skin. And you’re going to beg me for more but I’m going to take my time. I am going to savour you. I want to look down and see you whimpering and begging for me to touch you and just when you think it’s never going to happen I’ll drag my tongue down your stomach until it’s on your hard -”

“Enough!” Erik barked hoarsely. The book had long been abandoned; now, his hands gripped onto the fabric of his pants, tight enough for his knuckles to whiten. “Enough.”

Nadir pulled away enough to look at the other man, smirking. He could hear his ragged breathing as he struggled to calm himself. When the Persian’s hand first squeezed Erik’s own clenched one and then began to wander up his thigh, a wonderfully guttural groan filled the room. Erik tipped back his head as Nadir began to stroke the tell-tale hardness in his pants.

“You’re so easy.” He teased, leaning in to press a single lingering kiss onto his neck.

“Shut up.” He muttered weakly. “It is not Erik’s fault that you possess the powers of a siren.”

“Does this mean you are seduced? Or must I speak inappropriately again?” 

There was a short moment of more fidgeting from the Frenchman before the heavy silence between the two was broken.

“Well… perhaps one may continue to speak… inappropriately… as the events of the evening unfold…” He mumbled. 

His hand went to his jaw again, this time to pull his mouth to his own. After the initial shock ebbed away Erik was kissing him back just as fervently, tilting his head to ensure the nose of the mask would not collide with the Persian’s. Nadir took Erik’s parted lips as an invitation to sweep his tongue slowly along his lower lip, just far enough inside for him to shudder and moan in response. He felt his bony hands grip onto his biceps, tight enough to leave bruises on his brown skin. He didn’t mind. Any marks left on him by Erik’s blind fumblings of desire were to be cherished. The Persian’s hand rose to Erik’s throat and began unfastening the buttons. Slowly, bit by bit, more of his yellow skin was exposed. He didn’t have time to feel self conscious about it before Nadir began lavishing hot, sticky kisses all over his neck and collarbones. When Erik’s fingers twisted into Nadir’s dark curls his kisses became more desperate, his fingers growing clumsy with the buttons: he needed more of him. He needed more of his skin pressed against his lips. He needed to taste him. He had finished the shirt and was busily attempting to undo his belt when the throat under his lips vibrated in speech.

“Bed.” 

Such a simple word, but such a lovely one. Nadir hummed in agreement and managed to pull himself away from him. Erik was a mess. His eyes were hooded yet somehow still glowing cat-like among the dark in his mask; his twisted lips were parted, his scant chest heaving as he panted. This was how Nadir liked him. Vulnerable. Human.

They chose Nadir’s room as it was closest. Erik was hardly seated on the bed before Nadir was on him again, his lips all over his jaw and mouth. He kissed him hungrily, drinking up the slight salt on his skin along with the smell of musk and incense that was undeniably his. He paused only to peel off his shirt - as eager as Erik was, he never was one to initiate. It was a wise decision. Gingerly, one of his hands crept onto the Persian’s chest and ran over the smooth, brown skin. Nadir remained still as the hand crept lower and lower, over his stomach, his midriff, and onto his flies, then back up again. He sighed and looked down at the thin fingers that ran over his chest hair inquisitively. They stayed like that for a moment, Erik slowly caressing Nadir’s chest while the latter held his breath, not wanting to scare him off and ruin it all. There was always a look of wonder in Erik’s eyes whenever he touched Nadir’s skin. He had only ever seen a similar look when he regarded one of his favourite operas, or perhaps a particularly exquisite piece of artwork. 

Erik had told him often that he most lusted after beauty. 

As promised, Nadir undressed him. He brushed the halves of his shirt from his shoulders and dropped it onto the floor. Erik returned to running his hands over Nadir, over the square of his shoulders and his full biceps as the Persian undid his belt and flies. In a moment of romantic expertise that Erik did not quite understand he found himself entirely underneath the Persian while his pants were being removed, followed swiftly by his underwear. He was thankful that the lights in the room were out so that Nadir did not have to suffer with the sight of his particularly unpleasant body, but Nadir instantly lowered his head and began to kiss every scar and line that he could see. His fingers dug into the Persian’s back, his eyes fluttered closed at his ministrations. 

He took his time. He wanted to ensure that each and every imperfection that Erik so loathed was loved by his lips. A few times his hand began to trail down Erik’s stomach habitually before stopping short, remembering what he had promised earlier. It seemed to be working. The slow pace and the lack of touch were causing him to squirm impatiently, especially when Nadir began working on the scars of his thighs. He was tensed underneath him, each ropy muscle and cord pulled taut under his thin skin. Nadir kissed up his inner thigh and then moved to the opposing knee, beginning the slow torture all over again.

“Nadir.” He whined, tangling his fingers into the Persian’s hair. He smiled against his skin.

“Yes?”

He said nothing. He lay, chest heaving, his heavy pants filling the air, desperately tugging on the dark curls between his fingers. 

Nadir lifted his head.

“If you want something, Erik, you must tell me. Otherwise I can’t give it to you.”

“Nadir…” He groaned. From his position, Nadir could see the skin visible under the mask was tinged scarlet. “Nadir…”

“I told you I was going to make you beg.” He whispered, running his fingers one of the thighs beside his head. “I’m a man of my word, Erik.”

Nothing but silence. Nadir shrugged and made to get up. He was held in place by the hands in his hair, a groan escaping from gritted teeth from his partner.

“Fine. Fine.” He hissed. “Nadir. Please.”

“Please what?” He giggled. Erik groaned again in frustration.

“Please!” He gasped. 

“What is you want, Erik?” He implored, tracing his fingers along his abdomen. “Do you want me to touch you?”

Erik nodded quickly, breathing hard. Nadir smirked. His fingers wrapped around Erik’s thick cock, slowly rubbing back and forth. His hips jerked in response and he sighed in relief. Nadir rubbed the pad of his thumb over his head, smearing the precum that was gathered there. 

“I love having you like this.” He muttered. “I love having you so strung up that I can do anything I want with you.”

He didn’t reply, but the tugging on Nadir’s hair made him grin wickedly.

“I think it would be better if I used my mouth instead of my hand.” He added, casually. Again, Erik nodded his approval.

“Would you like that?”

“Nadir…” He was speaking through gritted teeth. “I’m yours. Yes. I would.”

Nadir smiled and lowered his mouth. As he dragged his tongue along the base of his cock, he closed his eyes at the resulting groan.

“Just making sure. Don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with.” He muttered. He gripped the base of his shaft and enveloped his head in his mouth. The choked moan rising from Erik’s throat spurred him on; he pushed his head down as far as he could before pulling back up, swirling his tongue over the tip while massaging what he couldn’t reach with his hand. The hands on his head urged him further; he gripped onto his thighs and swallowed as much of his cock as he could handle, his nose brushing against his midriff. He pulled back with a wet pop and glanced up to see how he was doing.

Erik was trembling. His head was tipped all the way back, his back arched, his mouth falling open as he waited for Nadir to continue. He opened his eyes once to see what the Persian was doing when he heard the drawer being opened, but closed them again and tilted his head to the other side with a slight smile when he saw him retrieving the bottle of lubricant. Nadir coated his fingers and settled back between his legs, his tongue teasing his cock again as he worked first one finger, then a second, then finally a third inside of him. With a final graze of his tongue he sat up and finally reach down to attend to the aching hardness between his own legs; he spread the remaining lubricant from his fingers onto himself before arranging himself into position.

Erik had covered his face with his arm at this point. Nadir thought it strange for a man in a mask to be hiding his face but said nothing, instead burying his face into the crook of his neck as he lifted his hips to make room for his own.

“I want you so bad.” He muttered. “Am I okay to -”

“Yes.” Erik interrupted hoarsely. “Good God, Nadir, just - please -”

Nadir pressed his cock against him and slowly eased himself inside, lavishing kisses all over his neck. Under him, Erik’s back arched, allowing Nadir to slide his hand underneath and pull him close for a moment as he waited for him to adjust to the feeling of him inside him. Then, he began to move, slowly at first but then faster and harder until they were both gasping and panting, with Erik’s spidery fingers raking lines down Nadir’s back and Nadir’s lips bruising the thin flesh of Erik’s neck. He gripped his hips as he fucked him, lost in the motions to care about how much noise they were making or the fact that the headboard was slamming quite violently against the wall. Erik’s fingers twined into his hair once again and pulled his head to his until their lips crashed together, their teeth almost colliding from the careless action. He reached a hand down to stroke Erik’s cock as he slammed into him over and over until, with a choked groan, he felt hot, thick liquid spill over his hand. 

They fucked. Messy, sticky, careless, imperfect - it was everything Erik wasn’t, and it was fine. Scrabbling fingers and scrapes of teeth against skin. Rasping breaths and throaty growls. Sweat-slicked skin sticking to more flesh as muscles pulled taut and relaxed with each thrust. Nadir would have gladly stayed like that forever, but the feeling was building, the crescendo rising and gaining until finally the wave crashed and he came, clutching Erik to him as closely as possible as he rode out his climax. Finally, the glow subsided; he collapsed, breathless, beside him on the bed. Erik was already fussing over the covers. Nadir smiled to himself and rubbed the sweat from his forehead as the sheets were pulled over them both. Despite having been inside him only seconds ago, he was already too ashamed for Nadir to see his body again.

“Must you cover yourself up so soon?” He muttered.

“My apologies. Not all of us are akin to Adonis.” He had the sheet pulled up to practically his chin, his eyes anywhere but on Nadir. 

He was too tired for this game. He could argue with him all night but nothing would stop Erik from feeling anything but disgust for himself. Instead, he pulled him into his arms, where he could shield Erik’s body with his own. He stiffened for a moment but then his face found Nadir’s chest and attempted to bury itself there.  
“Ouch.” He tutted, gently tapping the mask. “Can we take this off?”

Erik grumbled and ran his fingers over his porcelain cheek protectively.

“We really are attempting to make Erik uncomfortable tonight.” He muttered, but hesitantly slipped it off and set it on the side table anyway. He quickly pushed his face back into Nadir’s skin, while the Persian ran his fingers through his hair.

“Do I do anything else?” He chuckled.

“It seems not.” He was complaining again, but without the mask Nadir could now see he was definitely smiling. It was such a tiny smile he could never catch it when he had the mask on, but when he did, his heart would swell. 

He kissed Erik’s forehead and nestled him close, then closed his eyes.

“What can I say? I enjoy seeing you flustered.”


End file.
